


Through Cat's Eyes

by BlueEyedArcher



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game)
Genre: Adventure, Animal Transformation, Cat Ears, Gen, Geralt is a cat, Past Relationship(s), Past Torture, Petsitting, Scars, Spell Failure, pass the kitty, random idea, unhappy ex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-27
Updated: 2016-07-28
Packaged: 2018-07-18 13:27:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7317049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueEyedArcher/pseuds/BlueEyedArcher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Geralt gets turned into a cat and the now feline Witcher has as much of a taste for trouble as he did as a human. These are the many mishaps and adventures of our feline friend in a collection of one-shot stories.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cat Fight

**Author's Note:**

> Geralt gets in a fight with Yennefer who, in her rage at the Witcher, unleashes a powerful spell.

“I told you already Yen, I had amnesia. I couldn't remember anything about us.”  Geralt’s voice pleaded for the dark haired sorceress to understand his predicament. He was telling her the truth but she appeared to be having none of it.

 

Her eyes flared up with a fire Geralt had seen only a few times before. He knew he was pushing it but her constant finger pointing and guilt tripping was testing his patience and it was all he could do to keep his voice in check. “Geralt!” She growled sharply. “I am not in the mood for your childish excuses. You expect me to believe that?” She scoffed, crossing her arms and glaring at him.

 

Geralt felt the heat climb into his tone as he barked back. “Childish? I'm not the one being childish about this. When are you ever in the mood to talk? I've been nothing but honest with you from the start.”

 

“Geralt.” Her tone was sharp, edged with a warning. But the Witcher couldn't help himself. He wanted to push her as far as he could. He was done lying down and surrendering at her feet. “Shut up.”

 

“No, I will not. How's it feel not getting everything you want?” He growled, watching her eyes narrow to slits as he was preparing to deal the final blow. In a swift movement she flicked her hand in his direction, a black bolt of magic hitting the Witcher in the chest mid sentence. A gasp fell from his lips as he was knocked back into the wall with an explosion of black smoke filling the room. The whole castle seemed to tremble with the blast.

 

The thunder of boots pounding up the stone steps to the tower filled the spire as two witchers burst through the threshold of the stairway. “What in the hell is going on up here?” Lambert blurted loudly, his senses alert, eyes scanning the room, landing on the sorceress’s lithe form in the black haze, her arms crossed glaring daggers at the two men.

 

Eskel’s voice was more reserved as he politely asked “What happened here? Is everyone okay?” He studied the room looking for the source of the explosion but was confused when he found none. No scorch marks or broken objects.

 

“Hey, where's Geralt?” Lambert asked, eying the sorceress with suspicion.

 

Yennefer waved the comment away like it was an annoying gnat flying around her. “You can have him back. I despise cats.” Her voice was laden with venom as she motioned with her arms summoning a portal. “Take care not to touch my things.” She warned before disappearing through the magic void. It swallowed up her black form, the magic whipping the air around the room, dispersing the black fog quickly.  

 

The two witchers stood dumbstruck, at the top of the stairs. Lambert’s jaw agape in utter disbelief. “What the hell does that mean?” He shouted at the now empty room.

 

It was a rhetorical question that was answer by a soft meow at the other side of the room. Were it not for their enhanced hearing, the two witchers would not have heard it. They looked at eachother then back at the other side of the room. The sound came from behind two large clothing trunks left open with black garments spilling out of them. Carefully they approached not so sure of what they'd find when their eyes fell on the sight of a large male cat with a soft white coat. Large golden eyes peered up at the two men in utter confusion. The left eye bearing the elder witcher’s signature scar. The two men looked at each other as if to confirm their both seeing the same thing before looking back at the dazed feline. “Geralt?” Eskel asked, breaking the silence.

 

He was answered by a soft meow from the feline as it tried to stand up, wobbling slightly before falling down. His legs unsteady and his mind obviously still reeling from the spell’s effects.


	2. Kaer Morhen Petsitters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vesemir lays down the laws of responsible pet ownership. Actually he just orders the boys to take care of Geralt because Papa Vesemir has work to do.

“Well then, this is new.” Vesemir admitted as he examined the newly turned Witcher. The feline sat on its haunches, licking it's paw and wiping its face clean while the elder man studied him. He plucked a tuft of fur gaining an annoyed growl in response from the cat. Golden eyes glaring at him.

 

“Don't worry pretty boy, your fur is fine.” Lambert joked as Vesemir examined the tufts more closely under a magnifying glass. The feline shook his head at Lambert and turned his attention to his mentor, walking across the tabletop to sit beside the stationary magnifying glass, staring at his own fur beneath it as Vesemir dropped a few drops of solution on it, watching the reaction.

 

After a few moments and no reaction, the eldest Witcher straightened up and sighed a bit at a loss. "It would appear this will not be so easy to reverse. It will take some time but I may be able to find a way to turn him back to normal. Best case scenario, time is all that it will take for him to turn back.”

 

“And the worse case scenario?” Eskel asked from his seat on a nearby desk.

 

“Worse case is that the longer he stays like this, the more he'll become an actual cat. It could be permanent. Yennefer could be the only person able to turn him back to normal.” It was a thought nobody delighted in entertaining but it was a plausible reality they had to be prepared for.

 

“I say we find her and make her turn him back to normal. As much as I like pretty boy being a cat, it just means more work for us.” Lambert growled.

 

An annoyed hiss came from Geralt whose hackles rose along his spine. “I don't speak cat.” Lambert reminded the feline.

 

“Careful Lambert, he might actually use those claws on you.” Eskel warned, crossing his arms in amusement as the prickly witcher argued with the white feline.

 

Lambert scoffed. “He wouldn't dare if he wants to keep them.”

 

“Enough.” Vesemir ordered, furrowing his brow and rubbing the bridge of his nose in frustration. “You two will see to him for the time being until I can find a way to reverse the spell.”

 

“But-” Lambert made to protest but was cut off.

 

“No buts.” Vesemir ordered. “Am I understood?”

 

“Yes Vesemir.” The two witcher’s said in unison, their voices taking on the tone of troublesome children being punished for their mischief.

  


Eskel took the first shift of cat sitting, spending most of his time outside tending to his ever faithful pet goat Lil Bleater. As he busied himself with his usual routine, Geralt was a few feet away lying stretched out in the soft grass.  His body lying in a narrow strip of warm sunshine sneaking between the outer wall and one of the sheds of the courtyard. It was already growing late in the evening and the witcher-turned-feline was determined to soak up every last bit of sunshine left in the day.

 

A soft purr emanating from him as he began to drift into a warm and cozy slumber, the day's stresses and mishaps already long forgotten. Eskel chuckled softly to himself at the sight of the sleeping feline. “Awe, ain't that just adorable.” Lambert coed as he passed on his way out to his shed to work on a batch of bombs. He intended to use them fishing early the next morning and didn't want to hassle with them while half asleep.

 

Geralt stretched in his sleep, draping one paw across his eyes, the other stretched out under his head. “He doesn't sleep any differently than he did as a human.” Eskel pointed out. The Witcher slept the same way, stretched across a cot, his limbs in varying directions, most of them hanging off of the tiny wooden frame. Occasionally he'd end up sliding off of it all together, only to be left lying in a heap, still dead asleep.

 

Lambert crouched down next to the slumbering feline whose soft belly was exposed to the warm rays of sunlight. He reached out and poked his stomach. “Lambert.” Eskel scolded. “Leave him be. He's had a tough day.”

 

“That's what he gets for sleeping with sorceresses.” Lambert countered as he poked Geralt again. The feline didn't even seem to notice the younger man's proddings. Lambert frowned and ran two fingers across the length of the feline’s stomach determined not to be ignored. Geralt responded by sleepily curling around the younger witcher’s hand then stretching out onto his back, paws stretched high above his head completely exposing his belly. Lambert took the gesture as an invitation and stroked the felines soft fur eliciting a gentle purr steadily streaming from his chest.

 

“Isn't this cute?” Vesemir’s voice broke the relative quiet causing both witcher’s to jump in surprise. Lambert’s hand retracting suddenly waking the sleeping Geralt to peer up at the three men in confusion.

 

Vesemir laughed heartily. “I knew you three could get along.”

 

Lambert frowned, getting up from his crouch and storming off grumbling to himself. Eskel chuckled. “Now, now Vesemir. Lambert’s got a sterling reputation of being an asshole to uphold. He can't be seen petting precious kitties. What would the rest of us think?” He joked, watching the grumpy witcher busy himself in his shed. The sound of parts being banged around in frustration easily audible in the empty courtyard.

  
Finding his patch of sun quickly dwindling and the cool mountain air beginning to settle in his fur, Geralt did one final tired glance at his companions. With a yawn, he looked towards the keep then towards the shed where Lambert cursed loudly having caught his finger in a contraption.  He stretched out, flexing his front claws before getting up and heading back into the castle for the night.


	3. Trouble In Kaer Morhen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lambert and cat's don't often mix, even less when that feline is Geralt.

Vesemir moved about the quiet of the Kaer Morhen castle, enjoying the rare silence that settled within the stone halls. After another day of rowdy shenanigans from the boys and the sudden issue of Geralt’s transformation, the elder witcher was pleasantly at peace during the early morning hours. It was still dark out meaning the peace and quiet would last a little while longer. Or so he hoped.

 

The peace was shattered with a sudden series of noises. A loud growl echoed in the sleeping quarters followed by a deep hiss and a surprised scream from Lambert. A long string of cursing and the crash of objects being knocked over came after. There was an explosion of footsteps and more crashing sounds and cursing. Vesemir grumbled as the noise grew closer. “So much for that.” He manages before a blur of white shot past him, scaling the bookshelves and desks.

 

Lambert was right behind the blur, shouting. “You whoreson! Get your furry ass back here and face me!” He challenged, one hand gripping his already scarred cheek. His other hand shot out quickly forming a sign in the air before an explosion of energy shot forth towards the feline who sought safety a top one of the many book shelves. The feline hissed before leaping past Lambert, avoiding the attack though the shelves weren't so lucky as they toppled into one another like a domino effect.

 

Vesemir cringed as the old texts and tomes fell over with a loud thud that was nearly deafening in the large room. A massive cloud of dust rose into the air as the books laid scattered about the floor. Lambert didn't seem at all concerned, shooting off after the feline as he cursed and insulted it. Vesemir gritted his teeth as another crash came from the weapons room.

 

He charged into the room snatching Lambert by the collar of his armor and capturing the fleeing Geralt by the scruff of his neck and growled. “That. Is. Enough.” Both the young Witcher and the feline shrunk back in the elder witcher’s grasp, both fearing the outcome of the man’s anger. It was a rare sight which made it that much more terrifying for the youths who he presided over.

 

“This has got to stop. Now.” Vesemir ordered.

 

“Lambert, you are going to clean up the mess you made this instant.” The younger Witcher made to protest but the stern look given from the elder witcher was enough to quell any complaints. “And Geralt, do not think you are excused from this behavior.” The feline’s ears fell back and his tail tucked between his legs as he watched the elder witcher with large eyes.

  


Eskel walked into the keep after a long night of tracking down a trio of ghouls that appeared wandering the outskirts of Kaer Morhen’s woods. The exhausted Witcher entered the keep of the castle with his only thought being, finding his bed and sleeping. It was all he cared about, that is until he came across the sight of the resident grouch lifting the last of the fallen shelves and picking up the fallen texts, stacking them neatly in their respective places. Even alphabetizing them. A broom leaned against a table where an already sizeable heap of dirt was collected. On the table was a large crate with a very unhappy feline that switched from glaring at the steady grumbling of the grouch and looking at the bars of the crate with large forlorn eyes.

 

As Eskel got closer he noticed the fresh scratches that marked the length of the witcher’s cheek almost mirroring the appearance of the older and larger scars present. With sleep far forgotten, Eskel stepped towards the mess but was mindful to keep his distance since it appeared everyone was in a foul mood. “What happened here?”

 

Lambert almost snarled in response. “Nothing. Butt out of it.”

 

Eskel folded his arms across his chest. “Okay. Why is Geralt in a cage?”

 

“Because this is his fault too.” Lambert growled. “He started this mess.”

 

“What'd he do?” Eskel asked even though it looked pretty obvious. Lambert glared at the other witcher. If looks could kill, Eskel would have dropped dead that second.

 

“It's your fault too.” Lambert growled.

 

“What makes you say that?” The Witcher scoffed. “I've been gone all night.”

 

“Yeah but you put him in my bed. Admit it.”

 

Eskel almost laughed. “Why would I do that?” He waved a hand dismissively. “Besides, when I left, he was sleeping in his own bed. If he was in yours this morning, he did that of his own accord.”

 

“Why the hell would he do that?” Lambert laughed. The idea was ridiculous.

 

“He's a cat. They seek the warmest place to sleep. Even if that spot is curled up next to a human body.”

 

Lambert looked taken aback. He glanced over at Geralt who seemed to have tuned in to their conversation and was listening intently. “Why’d he scratch you? What did you do?” Eskel inquired.

 

“Nothing. Just rolled over to find him sleeping on my pillow. He woke up, freaked and clawed me.” Lambert explained.

 

“And you got pissed and the two of you rampaged through the castle like a boar in a potion shop.” Eskel filled in the rest.

 

“Yeah, I guess to could say that.” Lambert finally admitted.

 

Eskel sighed as a yawn came on reminding him once again just how tired he was. “I need a break.” He said as he excused himself and started towards the sleeping quarters.

 

“That's it!” Lambert blurted.

 

Eskel groaned, turning around to face the witcher. “What now?”

 

“We need a break.” Lambert said.

 

Eskel stared at him. “Then take a short break.”

 

“That's not what I meant.” Lambert frowned.

 

“Please, by all means do share.” Eskel gestured in a hurried fashion. He was beginning to lose patience and his will or desire to remain awake any longer.

 

“We need a break.” Lambert repeated then gestures around them.”From all this. We've been cooped up in here for too long. We're getting on each other's nerves. We need to take some time away from all this and just relax. Maybe head to Novigrad or Oxenfurt. It'll do us and Geralt some good.”

 

“I don't know about this.” Eskel remarked. “Poppa Vesemir might not be too happy.”

 

“Come on Eskel. Grow some balls for once.” Lambert prodded. “And who knows, maybe some vacation time might turn Geralt back to normal.”

 

Eskel sighed, knowing all too well the look in Lambert’s eyes. He was determined and that meant nothing was going to stop him. Eskel weighed the consequences. _Go with Lambert on his escapades and get in trouble_ or _stay in Kaer Morhen and Lambert go alone and get in trouble._ Either one had the possibility of Geralt's safety being at risk, rather it was at the hands of foes or of Lambert. The upside being Geralt has plenty of friends in and around Novigrad and Oxenfurt. Including a few sorceresses who might be able to help. Eskel sighed in defeat. “Fine. I'll go with you, for Geralt’s sake.”

  
A soft meow came in response causing both witchers to look at the cage finding the white feline staring at them determinedly. “Good. So we're all in agreement.” Lambert smirked slyly. “We leave tomorrow."


	4. The Commander and The Cat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roche comes in to the mix.

They no sooner arrived in Oxenfurt when trouble began. The city filled with problems and monsters on the prowl just beyond the gates forced the two witchers to find a temporary pet sitter while they addressed the issue. On their search for someone trustworthy, the two came up with the only reasonable choice. Which leads to the reason why they're standing outside the Blue Stripes stone hideout. Lambert already fighting with the guards at the entrance of the cave while Eskel keeps a watchful eye on the trouble making feline. Geralt on the other hand appeared to be more delighted than either of the witchers to see the familiar cave stronghold. As Eskel watched the feline who was currently perched on their horse, stretching out to swat the quieter witcher’s ear as a fly flew around them. He caught Eskel’s ear once with his claws, entirely by accident but that didn’t stop the yelp of surprise from the witcher. “Geralt!” He scolded, cupping his ear and swatting the feline’s paw away. “Cut it out will ya.” He asked as a growl of discontent and more shouting came from the entrance. The feline rolled his eyes at the sound and continued to run the length of the horse to chase the fly, stretching as far as his paws would allow to catch the pesky insect. He stood on the edge of the saddle and lunged for the fly only to tumble over the edge and towards the horse’s hooves. His antics stirring up the horse into an anxious mess in the process. Eskel’s hands shot out to catch the feline before he ended up trampled, scooping him up and cradling him in his arms.

 

“This is exactly the reason why you need a babysitter. We can’t keep track of you when a fight starts. You’ll be monster food before the day’s end.” The soft spoken witcher explained. The feline watched him with wide golden eyes and reached a single paw up to bop him on the nose. The witcher chuckled softly at the gesture knowing all too well that if the witcher were in his normal form, he wouldn’t even think about doing that or manage to get away with it. Another grumble from the prickly witcher came in the direction of the entrance before a familiar timbre chimed in.

 

“What the hell is going on out here?” He barked. A familiar form in a Blue Stripe’s gambeson and an eternal chaperon stormed out of the stronghold to confront the raucous intruders. He froze in his tracks when his eyes flitted from Lambert to Eskel then falling on the cat held carefully in the witcher’s arms. The feline’s eyes widened with interest, sitting up in Eskel’s arms to take in the sight of the Blue Stripe’s commander. “Ah hell.” He cursed already sensing his first headache of the day coming on. 

 

Lambert gave a wide toothy grin. “Heya Roche.” He greeted. “We have a little favor to ask you.”

  
  


 

* * *

  
  


 

“I said no.” Roche argued with Lambert over his desk. They had moved their conversation inside the cave to Roche’s workspace. The desk was covered in a map showing troop movements for both armies and stacks of reports from his scouts were scattered across the table. The commander had been in the middle of reading over them when the troublesome trio barged in and shattered the relatively quiet morning Roche had been enjoying.

 

“Come on Roche, you guys are old pals, right? Just do us this solid.” Lambert tried to reason. “We’ll make sure Geralt knows he owes you one when he’s turned back.”

 

The temerian shook his head, his expression a cross of annoyance and frustration from dealing with the determined witcher. ‘What am I supposed to do with him here? I’ve got a unit to run. I can’t afford to be distracted while watching your pet.” He barked back, his tone sharpened on the wood pet. He was certain this was a joke concocted by the witcher’s to see if he’d fall for it. There was no way he would fall for it, that Geralt would be fool enough to get himself turned into a cat.

 

“He’s not just some pet, he’s Geralt.” Lambert growled back in frustration.

 

“Like I’d believe that. You’ve got to be kidding.” Roche countered.

 

Eskel decided this would be the best time to speak up, explaining what Lambert obviously failed to. “It really is Geralt. Him and Yennefer got into a fight and this was the outcome.” His tone was even and serious, holding a bit of sympathy for his fellow witcher as he explained. “Vesemir is trying to find a way to reverse it but in the meantime we have to take care of him. We still need to work so we were hoping you’d help us out as a favor from Geralt himself.”

 

Roche listened carefully, his face giving no sign of rather he believed the soft spoken witcher. The temerian considered the witcher’s words with his arms folded across his chest. He studied the two witcher’s expressions for any hint that this was all a farce. Amidst the silence and the arguing, Geralt found himself content as he leapt up onto the desk and sat in the middle of the map, golden eyes staring up at Roche. The feline held the commander’s gaze the way the silver haired Witcher always did when they spoke. But this time the feline made no noise. The two held this staring contest as if an unspoken conversation were going on between them, leaving the two witcher’s to watch cluelessly. After a long quiet moment, Roche nodded. “Fine. I’ll watch him.”

 

“Alright!” Lambert cheered triumphantly. Before being cut off abruptly by the temerian.

 

“But only until your work is done. No an hour longer, got it?” Roche made them promise, his tone holding it’s usual sternness..

 

Eskel nodded. “You have our word. As soon as our work is finished, we’ll come straight here to pick him up.” Roche nodded, accepting the soft spoken witcher’s word, finding him to appear more reliable than the prickly witcher who rolled his eyes at his companion. Eskel noticed this and directed his attention on Lambert. “Right Lambert?”

 

Lambert grunted. “Yeah yeah. We’ll be back to pick up pretty boy.”

 

Eskel sighed and shook his head as the two witcher’s left the hideout, leaving Roche to deal with his new guest alone. The temerian sighed and leaned against the desk, his back pressed against the side as he looked down at Geralt who stared up at the commander with interest, tilting his head to the side, giving a soft meow that seemed wrong in the stale air of the cave. “I’ve got work to do. I trust you’ll keep out of trouble.” Roche stated, watching the feline. Geralt bowed his head in response, showing he understood the commander’s words.

 

Roche raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the feline’s ability to understand him. It was certainly interesting for the commander but also made him feel uneasy. The way the witcher-turned-feline watched him with such studious eyes was unsettling. He was accustomed to being the one on the other end of that look. It felt odd being put under the spectrum, even more so getting that look from a cat. He shook his head and walked away to clear his mind and see what trouble Ves had gotten herself into next. He needed a minute to straighten out his thoughts. 

 

As he walked through the cave, he found some of his men were giving him weird stares, some of them looked on the verge of laughter, all eyes following him. There were hushed whispers among some which was unnerving. He stopped mid stride to ask what was so amusing when he heard the soft pitter patter of paws behind him. He turned to find Geralt was following close behind the commander, bumping into the back of the temerian’s heels as his eyes were scanning the room. He was about to snap at the feline to watch out when he caught himself. He wondered what it would look like from the feline’s view after he had once walked these chambers as a full grown man. Roche bit back the remark and sympathized with the furry witcher. He assumed it must be so strange and it probably wasn’t easy to be in his position. 

 

He sighed and scooped up the feline, holding him carefully in his arms. “How’s this?” He asked the cat. Golden eyes turned and widened, staring at the commander in surprise before settling back to their usual intuitive gaze. He meowed softly before reaching his paws for the commander’s shoulders. Roche furrowed his brow trying to understand what the feline wanted until Geralt pulled from the temerian’s grasp and climbed atop the commander’s shoulders. Roche sighed, none too pleased with how he looked with the white feline on his shoulders but he figured it was better then him walking around coddling him. He shook his head as he returned his attention to his men who had all stopped their work to stare at their commander and his unusual behavior. “What are you all staring at? Get back to work!” Roche barked. His voice echoing throughout the chamber. The men jumped and scattered to return to their tasks, many of them keeping their eyes low but sneaking glances up at their commander after he passed. Even with the white feline on his shoulders, the commander remained an imposing figure among his men.


End file.
